


Coming Home

by butterflysandbullets



Category: MorMor - Fandom, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, Mentions of homophobia, Travel, mentions of abuse, time apart, university recollections
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 17:26:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4969858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflysandbullets/pseuds/butterflysandbullets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian leaves Jim notes when he's been away to remind him how much he misses him.  This is Sebastian's thoughts about how he feels when Jim leaves him for periods of time when they are still in Uni. And the first appearance of someone who will be a constant companion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome!  
> There are only 2 notes left in our note series to post and the last two deserved their own stories to go with them. So here is Sebastian's note.  
> Please, check out our blogs to see more of the universe we have created. So much to come! 
> 
> http://butterflysandbullets.tumblr.com/
> 
> http://samjournalentires.tumblr.com/
> 
> http://thecatsidhemoriarty.tumblr.com/
> 
> http://proftigermoran.tumblr.com/
> 
> http://theprincessbrilove.tumblr.com/

I knew fairly shortly after Jim and I got back together that he would have to travel back to Ireland from time to time. It was all part of the discharge plan he had from hospital and as part of his student visa. What I hadn't expected was for him to tell that he had to return so soon. It was only a month after we had found each other again. He didn’t say another thing about it until it was the night before he left. We spend the night tangled around each other, just being together. I left him at the terminal, watching with sadness as his plane took off into the sky.

Jim told me from the beginning that he most likely wouldn’t be able to contact me while he was gone. I knew that. But that week… that was one of the longest weeks of my life. Jim had left on Saturday and by Friday I was out of my mind without him. I tried to keep occupied and my roommate helped. Jim came to find me in town the night he returned and it was the first time he kissed me in public.

The second time he left, we had been living together in our own flat for about four months. It was Spring and he was beginning to see what his absence did to me and how I crumbled without him near. He told me that he was coming home on a Thursday and I had to work. Trying everything I could think of to get the night off, I failed and found myself still bound to my employer.

Jim called me the night before he was supposed to come back. He was stuck. He said he didn’t want to talk about it over the phone and he sounded more than a bit scared. I wanted to jump on the next plane and grab him, drag him back. Back to our world, to our safe space. But he told me he was okay. That he would be home soon enough. And the day after he was supposed to be home he was. He never would tell me why he was stuck or what had happened. I didn’t pry.

It never got easier on me when he left. I suspect it wasn’t easier for him either. But we had settled into a routine of sorts. He never let me come with, and I understood it to a degree. He didn’t want me to see this part of his past. That part of him that… that was so damaged. His words, not mine. I never saw him as damaged. Maybe a little… dented around the edges, but it just added to his beauty.

Jim got better about being able to stay in contact while he was there and I could see that each trip was grating on him. But, each trip got easier for both of us. But I think in a lot of ways it was the fact that I was waiting for him at home that helped him.

We both fell into routines around his trips. We talked less, touched more. There was more intimacy in our flat, and at times even on campus. He would show up outside of my class to walk me to the next. Neither of us saying a word to the other. Just walking, near each other and just…. being together. A simple kiss, a tender touch and he was gone.

I stopped taking him to the airport after the first time. It was just too hard on us both. The day he was due to come home, I would rise early and make sure the flat was clean and neat. I would shower and shave, pull on my favorite…. well, Jim’s favorite jeans and shirt he liked. Make the bed. And before I left for class, as I sat with my coffee and morning cigarette, write him a note. Something special he would find when he got home.

When Jim returned home after a "good" trip, he had a habit of finding me on campus. It was almost like we were magnets. I would look up and there he would be. Those were the days when Jim felt well enough to come out and seek me out. Those trips… those trips weren’t as bad as they could have been.

The bad visits were the ones where I came home and found Jim curled up on the sofa or in our bed. Those were the trips that scared me. Jim would retreat into his own head and I would go about my daily routine, waiting. Waiting for the hand that finally would come out into the air and I would grab it, pulling him against me. When he was ready for me.

But the worst… the worst night was the one that I went out to the pub with some mates. Jim wasn’t due home for another night and I was bored, missing him and lonely. I needed to be around a few friends and forget my isolation for the night. But after one pint, I found that I wanted to go home and pull his pillow against me and just… pretend he was there.

I came home to find that the flat was alight with every single bulb light in the place. Jim’s bag was near the bedroom door, nothing taken out of it. That in itself was unusual. Jim hated keeping things in his bag. But I couldn’t find him.

I had been on the verge of panicking when I realized the closet door in the bedroom was open. I opened it, slowly, to find Jim, curled up in the corner. He looked smaller and younger than I had ever seen him before. His arms were a mess of bruises and cuts, his face looking like someone had landed several good punches. I… I had only seen him look like this once before. And that… that’s another story.

Carefully, as to not hurt him, I picked him up and carried him into the bathroom. I gently stripped him and put him in the bath. I washed him, cleaned up his cuts, bandaged him and lay him in our bed.

I only left the bed to settle the flat for the night. I took a moment to call off from work the next day as well. Jim needed me more. I stripped to my boxers and tee shirt and crawled into bed. I  stroked his arm and back for hours, waiting. Just waiting. He would come to me when he was ready.

And around dawn he did. He sobbed in my arms for hours. Again, he never told me what happened.

I couldn’t stay home forever. I went back to work and class. But I left him that note. I knew that he would understand that I had been patient in waiting for him to return, even if he was there with me. I came home that night and he was…. he was back. Not all of him yet, but more of him than had been. More of him than was there only two days before when I found him in the closet.

 

The next day, I was in the market, getting us some things for the weekend. It was nearing the end of term, and we were staying at the flat instead of making any trips for the holidays. We just needed to rest and recharge. And that’s when I saw the silly thing. Silly. No. Stupid fecking… stuffed ball of fluff that’s become such a part of my life…. I can’t remember a time before it was there.

It was a whim. Honestly. I put it in the basket and when I got home, Jim was in the shower. His fifth or six that day. It… it was a compulsion. But I didn’t judge him for it. I had mine too. I placed it on the bed and went to put the food away.

I knew he was found the moment I heard the squeal. Okay, so we are the stereotypical gay couple. I know that. But Jim…. Jim has his moments that are pure…. teenage girl. And that…. that noise was….. burned into my memory forever.

Jim-Jam has been a big part of our lives since then. He’s helped us through a lot. More than I could ever admit. And the silly little thing… I… I’ve come to love it as much as I love the criminal mastermind that I married.

And you want to know a secret? There have been two occasions that Jim-Jam has gone missing. Once he ended up nearly getting dropped into a pool… and I was pissed as hell about that. And the second time…. I don’t want to talk about. Not yet.

 

Jim still goes back to Ireland now and again. Most of the time I go with him now. But every time he goes away and he comes home upset…. I still sing him our little song. I think it works. I don’t care. It makes me feel better. Because he is my sunshine.

  
  
  



End file.
